


Lazy Sunday

by anxiety-on-ice (captainoblivious)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (metaphorically), Breakfast, Cuddling, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, I am literally drowning in a pile of pillows as I type this, Kissing, M/M, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10173704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainoblivious/pseuds/anxiety-on-ice
Summary: It's Sunday in St. Petersburg, so Yuuri can finally sleep in. Victor, being the early riser that he is, prepares a surprise for him. Extremely fluffy, set after episode 12.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had a mighty need for some victuuri fluff and a lot of motivation, so here's some domestic bliss.

Out of the two of them, Victor is the early riser.  
  
“ _Yuuri_ ,” he drones, hugging the man in question from behind. They’re lying in bed in their bedroom in St. Petersburg. Sun is filtering through the blinds. It’s bright enough that most of the room is visible, but dark enough to sleep, if one is sufficiently determined.  
  
Yuuri grumbles something and pulls the blanket up to his chin, stealing some of it from Victor. Undeterred, Victor continues, his voice cheery and singsong. He’s always been an early riser. Makkachin likes morning walks.  
  
“Yuuri, it’s time to get up!”  
  
Yuuri grumbles again, more insistently, this time. Victor chuckles, and sweeps some of his fiancé’s hair aside so that he can plant a kiss on the other man’s neck.  
  
“What was that?” Victor says, not losing any of his cheer despite Yuuri’s morning grumpiness. He leans over further to whisper in Yuuri’s ear.   
  
“I can’t hear you, Yuuri.”  
  
Yuuri twitches, startled by the sudden tickling of breath by his ear. Then, he relents, turning his head slightly so that his mouth is free of the pillow, but keeping his eyes screwed firmly shut.   
  
“It’s a _Sunday_ ,” Yuuri slurs. “We don’t need to be awake yet.”  
  
Victor plants a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek before the latter turns his head back to once again smother his face in the pillow. Victor laughs softly, lying back down on the bed, combing his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.   
  
“Would you like to stay in bed a while longer?”  
  
Yuuri reaches out with one hand, grabbing the hand Victor was using to comb through his hair and pulling it towards him, so that Victor’s arm is wrapped around him.  
  
“Mhmmmm.”  
  
Victor smiles, and settles in behind Yuuri, hugging him tighter, tangling their legs together. He kisses the back of Yuuri’s head.  
  
“Alright.”  
  


* * *

  
  
When Yuuri wakes up, he no longer feels the comforting presence of Victor at his back. But he breathes a small sigh of relief when he hears the sound of Victor walking around the apartment, accompanied by the ever-present clicking of Makkachin’s toenails on the hardwood and stone tile flooring.   
  
And then, there’s the smell. Victor is cooking.  
  
The smell is familiar, but Yuuri isn’t sure he’s smelled anything quite like it before. Definitely nothing he’s had in Japan—not recently, at least—maybe something he ate in Detroit? In any case, he should get up and go help Victor out.   
  
He rolls onto his back and rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and is just reaching over to get his glasses when—  
  
“Good morning, Yuuri! Or should I say, good afternoon, because you really seem to like to sleep a lot! I made breakfast!”  
  
By squinting, Yuuri can just make out Victor standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, the other carrying something on a tray. Makkachin trods into the bedroom ahead of him and leaps onto the bed, lying down where Victor had been sleeping before. Yuuri’s hand finds his glasses.  
  
“Victor—”  Yuuri says, as he pulls his glasses on “—you didn’t have to…”  
  
“Are you telling me that I can’t spoil my _fiancé_?” Victor says, and the light stress he puts on the word whenever he says it never fails to make Yuuri’s heart flutter a little. Victor steps into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Yuuri and placing the tray on his own lap.   
  
“I made _blinchiki_. My grandmother’s recipe.”  
  
Yuuri smiles softly.   
  
“You’re too good for me,” he says, though these days he finds that he means it less and less every time.  
  
“Nonsense,” Victor chides. “I made a wonderful breakfast in bed for my wonderful fiancé, who needs to sit up so that I can give him his meal.”  
  
Yuuri scoots backwards, sitting up in the bed so that Victor can place the tray on his lap. Finally, he can take a good look at the tray’s contents: a large pile of crepes—the _blinchiki_ —rolled up and stuffed with what looks like cream cheese of some sort, and strawberries. There’s coffee as well, a latte; Victor has one of those fancy European coffee machines with dozens of settings and attachments to prepare fancy coffees with flavouring and foamed milk. _Of course he would._ Yuuri has no idea how to operate it.  
  
Victor’s even tried to decorate the latte with what looks like a heart. Yuuri’s smile widens.   
  
“As delightful as I’m sure my cooking is to look at, are you going to try it, or do I have to feed you?”  
  
Yuuri raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Is that an offer?”  
  
Victor snatches the fork from beside Yuuri’s plate before the latter can pick it up, and uses it to cut a corner off of one of the crepes. He raises the fork to Yuuri’s mouth.   
  
“Less talking, more eating. I already took Makkachin for a walk, but we still have to get groceries today.”  
  
Yuuri rolls his eyes jokingly at Victor’s gesture, but he obliges, opening his mouth so that Victor can feed him.  
  
It’s good. _Really_ good. Better than he expected, which is saying something, because so far, all of Victor’s cooking has been tasty.  
  
“So?” Victor asks, and Yuuri catches a glimmer of trepidation on Victor’s face before the latter smoothly hides it with a smile. “How is it?”  
  
“ _Vkusno_!” Yuuri says, before reaching out and grabbing Victor by the collar, pulling him in for a quick kiss.   
  
Victor _beams_ at this, his face radiating joy and traces of relief, and Yuuri finds himself smiling wider in response, before something occurs to him.   
  
“What about you?”  
  
“What?” Victor says, still beaming, looking slightly dazed, and Yuuri wants to kiss him again, but—  
  
“Aren’t you going to eat, too?”  
  
Victor pulls out another fork which was hiding underneath a napkin, which explained why  Yuuri hadn’t noticed it earlier. He grins.  
  
“That’s why I gave us enough to share.”   
  
He uses the new fork to cut off another corner of one of the crepes, and once again raises it to Yuuri’s mouth.   
  
“Now, say ‘aaa—’”  
  
Yuuri cuts Victor off with a forkful of crepe from his own fork before Victor manages to feed him. Yuuri raises his eyebrows at the other man and takes another bite of crepe while Victor chews and swallows his own mouthful.   
  
“How about we stick to eating with our own forks for now,” Victor says, sheepishly.   
  
Yuuri smiles and nods, taking Victor’s free hand in his own.   
  
“Let’s.”  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> blinchiki - Russian crepes
> 
> This is the first time I've written fic in literally years, and possibly the first time I've written romance, (as far as I can recall,) so please be kind to me. I had to write something for it though; as a mlm, Yuri!!! on Ice has been a life-changing show for me, and I feel better about life in general now that this anime exists. Special thanks to my tumblr followers for their kind words of reassurance and motivation; you can find me there at anxiety-on-ice.


End file.
